


Doyle and Vinegar

by JoansGlove



Category: Prisoner (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: Feelings change. Resolve wavers. Some things just can't be deniedA wholly AU fic from the early days of Prisoner





	Doyle and Vinegar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ifitbelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifitbelove/gifts).



> To my dear friend Ifitbelove, happy birthday, mate xx
> 
> with thanks to Duchess for her assistance

“Alright, you lot, move!” barked Vinegar Tits as the last peals of the end of work bell tailed off. The women filed out of the workshop. All except Franky. She’d been watching how, following Vinegar’s regular disappearances from her post, she returned a little more glassy eyed than before. She was halfway to being pissed! Franky grinned widely and tipped her a saucy wink.

 

From day one Vinegar had let her know exactly what she thought of dykes. Making out like she was better ‘cus she was straight. Franky’d only started flirting with her to piss her off. And it had been real good fun at the start, but then, the more she did it, the more she realised that she meant it and that she was beginning to look forward to seeing Vera, to getting a rise from her, because at least then she was talking to her.

Some women were like that, she reflected. You hated their guts and they hated yours, and then suddenly you didn’t hate them anymore. In fact, you started to think about fucking them, and wanting them to want it too, and it ended up screwing with your brain. Anyway, she reckoned, even if she was a sister and they met outside of the slammer, someone like her would never stand a chance with a classy dame like Vera.

 

From the look of repressed need on her face right now but, she got the feeling that old Vinegar didn’t hate her as much as she made out… Franky had no reason to hide what she was. She couldn’t even if she tried. But she reckoned that Vera had plenty of reasons and that was why she was like she was. Spending your whole life pretending to be something else had to be a real killer. She stared meaningfully into Vera's eyes and backed her up against the door frame.

 

“Oh! Oh, Doyle! What are you doing?” she pushed ineffectually at Franky’s shoulders as hands slid around her waist.

“What’s it look like, Vera? C’mon, you know you want it,” cajoled Franky.

“I do not! Now stop it at once.” Her stern words were rendered useless as Franky kissed her and her knees weakened. “I shall call for assistance, you know!” she threatened as Franky pulled away.

Franky snickered. “What, and have them see you half-cut? Not likely! Now giz another kiss.” She leaned in and slipped her tongue inside Vera's half-opened mouth, tasting whiskey and cigarettes.

 

A sudden fire raged through Vera making her skin burn. She shouldn’t be wanting this to happen, but after years of self-censure and denial, by god did she need it! Doyle had been on her radar from day one. Initially querying if the police hadn’t made a mistake bringing Doyle to a women’s prison, the flutter of instant attraction in her belly as she’d inducted Doyle had panicked her and she’d decided that the best way to deal with it was to be as harsh as possible. So naturally, she’d been wary of Doyle’s sudden solicitation after all these months of hard rule. But this girl – and she was just a girl – had given her the eye so often and so brazenly that she’d found herself blushing; and she was angry with herself because a woman like her shouldn’t be blushing. She wasn’t like _that_ , she never wanted to be like _that._ But if that were really true, then what was she doing now? The insistence of her attraction to this butch young woman was horribly undeniable.

 

She was a sad and lonely spinster. So lonely it physically hurt, just as if someone had scraped out her insides with a blunt spoon. Every man she’d ever met had treated her so appallingly, and her mother was so jealously cruel and demanding that she’d cried herself to sleep more times than she wanted to remember. She was sick of being pathetic – from now on, things were going to change!

Yet… Doyle was almost too much of a risk and Vera’s nerve quailed, but there was something so soft in her brown eyes and something so compelling about her sure touch that Vera knew that she was lost. Damn the consequences – she had to have this!

 

Muffled voices and the clang of the gates as Officer Yates let the women through to the main block roused her from her thoughts and she shoved Doyle away, twisting in her arms as she peered down the corridor. “Not here,” she muttered, “someone will come.”

“Yeh,” leered Doyle and grabbed her arse. “That’s the idea.”

Vera gasped and she felt her cheeks flame at the possibility. “The storeroom,” she managed and pulled away from Doyle.

Franky grinned as Vera set off unsteadily and she ran to catch up, slouching ahead of her as they headed to the restricted area.  If they saw anyone then they’d just think that Vera was being a bitch again and taking her to the Pound.

 

Vera drew her keys as they approached the door and she fumbled the right one into the lock as Doyle kept nit. Her face prickled hotly at what she was about to do. The light from the naked bulb revealed three walls of shelf upon shelf of neatly stacked uniforms and bedding, boxes of prison soap and shampoo, and towels. Jammed into the corner were two new mattresses.

She leant up against the nearest set of shelves as Doyle slipped in after her and shut the door. Popping the buttons on her tunic, Vera smiled lopsidedly as the girl’s bright eyes flickered between her fingers and her face. Letting her head roll back, she unpinned her hair and shook it out it a shimmering auburn wave, and a tingling broke out across her body as her eyes returned to Doyle’s and she saw the naked want glittering there.

 

Franky had no words as she stared at Vera. She was fucken beautiful! She suddenly realised that her mouth was hanging open and she shut it, swallowing loudly as Vera gave her an expectant look and removed her tie. An electricity filled her, making her cunt contract and suddenly, there was no space between them as she took Vera in her arms and kissed her. Her calloused hands roamed down Vera's back, up into her shining mass of hair, and as Vera began to kiss her back she became bolder, sliding them down to her arse, rucking her skirt high up her stockinged thighs as she slipped her leg between them. She moaned as Vera pressed into her hip and began to move.

Vera’s neck smelled of fancy soap and she nibbled her way down to her chest, slipping the buttons on her shirt and exploring the soft, freckled skin revealed beneath with her lips and tongue until Vera tugged her hands up to her breasts and urged her to squeeze. As she thumbed Vera's nipples through the thin material of her bra, her sweater was grabbed roughly and Vera pulled her closer, kissing her like a starving woman until Franky was struggling for air.

 

She really couldn’t help herself as Doyle squeezed her breasts. The buzzing tightness between Vera’s legs bloomed like a slow explosion, its effects flowing through her in a giddy rush, and she ground into Franky’s hip, wrapping her arms around her neck, kissing her harder as all those months (make that years) of pent up desire came rushing to the surface and her weakened sensibilities gave up fighting the inevitable. If anyone were to find them like this then her head would roll, but right now, she just didn’t care!

 

Shimmying out of her shirt and tunic, Vera unhooked her bra and Franky’s hands slipped beneath the cups. It was a rash move - giddy as she was, she knew that - but it felt so sinfully good to have Doyle’s hands on her bare breasts, and the way that her hair brushed against her shoulders felt so luxuriously decadent that any concerns were quickly overwhelmed by her desire.

“Your turn,” she breathed hotly and yanked at the bib of Doyle’s dungarees. It gave easily with a sharp double snap of the poppers, and then her fingers found the fastenings at Doyle’s waist and the worn denim sagged around her thigh as it succumbed to gravity.

 

She peeled off her sweater and, stepping away and out of her denim, Franky dragged the mattresses to the floor then, kneeling before Vera and staring hotly up into her face, gently reached up beneath her skirt and tugged her tights and underwear down to her ankles. Vera's scent was strong and it made Franky’s mouth water.

 

It came as a surprise to Vera to see just how shapely Doyle was. For all that she tried to hide it beneath her baggy uniform, she was very much a woman – even if her chosen underwear were Y-fronts and vest – and her eyes roamed the girl’s plump curves as she gently pulled her shoes and tights from her feet then stood to lead her to their makeshift bed. She shivered as the silky lining of her skirt caressed her bare skin and felt her pulse thudding in her throat as she allowed herself to be lowered onto the flowered foam. With a louche smile, Vera slid down the mattress, hoisting her skirt around her waist, and she opened her thighs to Doyle’s gaze. Fuck! She felt so decadently grubby! She wanted to be dirty, filthy… Oh god, she needed it!

 

Hungrily licking her lips, Franky stared at the glistening sliver of pink peeking out from a mass of thick hair. “Ohh-oh that’s a pretty picture,” she said, kicking off her grubby sneakers. Franky knelt between slim, lightly tanned legs and ran her hand appreciatively along their length. “Do ya want it, Vera?” she asked, eyes shining in anticipation. “Want what I’ve got for you, eh?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Righto,” said Franky and, hand on luscious tit and thigh against damp snatch, she kissed her once more.

 

Vera went off like a firework. She wanted Franky’s hands all over her and as she wriggled and rubbed against her like a bitch in heat, and Franky wondered how she’d ever thought that she didn’t stand a chance with her. Of course, she thought, it helped that she was half-pissed – the shy ones always needed a bit of Dutch courage. But this might be her only chance to get with Vera so she was gonna try and give her something to remember!

 

Franky’s thigh was soaked. Her mouth was full of tit. Her cunt was hot and tight. Reaching down, she slid her hand around Vera's arse and dabbled her fingertips in Vera's silky hole; jesus she was so wet and just begging to be filled – and she was the woman to do it. Sliding off Vera's tight body, Franky filled the space vacated by her thigh with her hand, pushing her fingers between swollen lips, stroking the thick juices over Vera’s hard little clit and grinning lustily as she responded with a strangled moan.

She worked Vera's sopping twat until she was clawing at the mattress and then she slid two fingers deep inside, then three, twisting them as she rammed them steadily into her burning depths. Vera's rich scent was driving her mad and she dropped down between her thighs and latched onto her clit. The swollen meat between her own thighs pulsed and jerked in response and, pulling Vera with her, Franky positioned herself on the corner of the mattress and began to rub her aching slit into the hard foam. Oh, fucken hell, that felt so good!

It was like sipping nectar, she thought as her soft tongue fluttered across the slippery little peak and she sucked and nibbled to the sounds of Vera's excitement, working herself harder into the mattress, rocking her whole body as she thrust into Vera's sweet cunt and a familiar heat built in her own.

 

Doyle’s muffled moans reverberated through her clit and Vera responded with a deep groan driven by the nerve tingling sensation coursing through her. Her head swam as she raised herself up on her elbows and focused on the girl between her legs. She’d imagined this happening, yet had pushed away the improper thoughts for the sake of decency; but always, always, she found herself returning to them in her weakest, loneliest moments. Of course, she’d never thought that she’d actually find herself in this situation for real but here she was, in the flesh, and it was so much better than anything she’d ever dreamed up in her virginal fantasies.  

 

Their eyes locked and Doyle raised her shining face as a pained rapture flashed across it. Uncharitable as the thought was, Vera was secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to touch Doyle ‘down there’. That sort of thing had never made it into her fevered dreams, and she had no desire to go exploring despite the situation they found themselves in now. Anyway, it was Doyle who’d made all the running so she could like it or lump it.

 

With her oiled blonde quiff falling across her forehead, and with eyes tightly shut and lips stretched wide, Franky buried her face in the soft pillow of Vera's inner thigh as she ground frantically into the mattress beneath them. It was getting too hard to concentrate and she yanked her sticky fingers from Vera's scalding depths and jammed them quickly inside her undies, staring hard into the liquid chocolate depths of Vera's eyes as she mingled her juices with her own and circled her clit. A heavy thrumming spread steadily through her blood and she gasped as her skin was assaulted by the prickle of a million needles, the sensation making her writhe against her fingers until she stiffened with a sharp cry and was dragged into the sweet, rushing clamour of release. She came hard and fast, clinging to Vera's thigh as she curled around her slippery fingers and lost herself to a series of shuddering, shivery jerks that left her buzzing and lightheaded.

 

A silly, dazed grin plastered across her face, Doyle lowered her head once more and hot, moist breath teased Vera’s forgotten parts, then Doyle began to kiss her sex, flicking at her sensitive inner lips with a soft, lingering tongue, heightening her arousal until Vera was squirming and pushing herself against Doyle’s mouth, desperate for more. Then Doyle had all four fingers inside her and her thumb on her clit, and Vera gaped wordlessly as a glove of sensuous heat enveloped her. The flowing muscles in Doyle’s arm and shoulder stood out as she fucked her hard and fast, making Vera's teeth rattle and she twisted helplessly (and blissfully) in the grip of abandonment.

 

The sheer bliss of it almost made her want to cry. She’d never had sex like this. She hadn’t known that feeling like this was even possible – she was floating on a thousand butterfly kisses, battered by Doyle’s relentless rhythm, paralysed under the relentless assault of the most outrageous sensations. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was just… Ohhhh! She nearly dissolved as her aching nipple was drawn deep into the girl’s mouth, and then she felt a delicious pull beginning to course through her body, tugging at all the slack threads, winding them together, coiling them into a knot of the sweetest sensation deep in her belly until there was nothing but Doyle’s hand and the bright pulse of the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever known. Her helpless cries rose in pitch and frequency until suddenly all breath was ripped away and her chest locked around her thundering heart. Her hand flew to Doyle’s wrist and held it still as she rode the white light of her climax, shaking with spasm after nerve-wracking spasm of indescribable ecstasy until finally, it relaxed its iron grip and she subsided into the mattress with a shaky sigh. 

 

She lay there, trembling hands curled loosely over her breasts as she caught her breath and allowed herself to luxuriate in this strange feeling of contentment. Nothing mattered at this precise moment, only the deep sense of satisfaction that banished the terror of her lonely life; not even Doyle who crawled alongside her and, with a look of muted triumph on her youthful face, lightly stroked her upper arm.

 

“Gawd, you're a real little goer, ain’tcha?”

It was the first time she’d ever been called a ‘goer’ and Vera felt her lip twitch in amusement, breaking the sensuous spell. “Am I?” she asked with a sly grin and turned her face to Doyle’s.

“Fucken A you are! A real choice piece, I reckon.” A secret thrill ran through her at Doyle’s coarse compliment but, fighting the silly smile that threatened to crease her face, she turned away lest the girl got ideas above her station.

 

Despite the starkness of her surroundings, she sank into a comfortable drowse and could have lain there all evening, but an idle glance at her watch made her start in alarm. They’d been away for far too long! She had to get back on duty – she was going to be missed! Scrambling to her feet, she dressed hurriedly, brushing the dust from her jacket and smoothing down the worst of the wrinkles in her skirt as Doyle lounged on her elbow and watched her with puppydog eyes.

“Get your clothes on, Doyle,” she ordered sharply and gathered her hair into its usual tight knot. “You’ll be late for second sitting!”

“Aw, Vera,” she complained and levered herself into a sitting position. She’d happily go without the slop Mrs O’Reagan served up if it meant they could stay here a bit longer.

“Come on! What are you waiting for?” Her face hardened as Doyle swore under her breath. Standing up was starting to make her head pound, and her nerves screamed out for a cigarette. “Now!” She barked harshly.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Franky grumbled and levered herself upright, complying in such a lackadaisical manner that Vera itched to take her by the scruff of the neck and shake some haste into her.

 

“What’cha doing tonight? I reckon we could make this place real cozy…” Franky hustled the mattresses back into the corner and winked lasciviously at Vera.

“Don’t get ideas, Doyle.”  

A grin split her face at the return of Vinegar Tits. “Always got ideas, Miss Bennett,” she said, stuffing her hands into her pockets and mooching towards the door.

“Well, I don’t want to hear them.”

“He he,” she snickered, “maybe later then.” She grabbed a handful of Vera's arse as they stepped into the corridor and cackled as old Vinegar scooted away like a scalded cat. “Ya know where I am if ya want some more,” she called after her and leant against the wall to roll a well-earned fag.  

 


End file.
